The Holiday Gift
by Batwings79
Summary: It was just after Christmas and they were holding the Servants' Ball that evening. The photographer captured many pictures of the family and staff of Downton Abbey as they mixed and mingled and danced. But why exactly were Mr. Charles Carson and Mrs. Isobel Crawley smiling so warmly at one another when they danced together? Read here and find out!


_**A/N: This is a one-shot written after some discussion about the recent gifs on Tumblr showing Carson dancing with Isobel Crawley at the Servants' Ball. It is dedicated to LavenderandHay. Enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the these characters and did not intend any copyright infringement.**_

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She sat at a table by herself at that moment. Matthew was on the dance floor with Mrs. Patmore and when she looked across the room, she saw Cousin Violet's pursed lips as she frowned upon Sir Anthony Strallan as he tried to take a turn around the floor with Edith. Everywhere she looked there were smiles and happy faces…all save one.

The tiny blonde thing stood in the shadows, watching and tending to the tasks at hand. Refilling glasses and clearing away empty plates, always polite and answering with a nod and a smile…a small tight smile that never quite reached her eyes. She watched as Mrs. Hughes kept the young woman busy, knowing there was no point in sending her to her room where the darkness, the loneliness and the worry would just eat away at her. No, she agreed that keeping Mrs. Bates busy was the best course of action tonight.

She went back to watching the couples swirling around on the dance floor. She had seen Cousin Robert dancing with Mrs. Hughes and Cousin Cora dancing with Mr. Carson, and even Cousin Violet had taken a turn with Thomas who was Robert's new valet. But still…the class culture was still there, the battle lines still drawn, you could feel it, even on this day when barriers were lowered and conversations were held with those who normally would have blended into the woodwork, pretending they couldn't hear and didn't have opinions.

Mrs. Hughes sent Mrs. Bates down the stairs again to retrieve another tray of cakes for the table. She wished her _friend_, Elsie, wasn't having to work so hard on a day that was supposed to be dedicated to the staff and that she could take a few minutes respite to sit and keep her company. She knew it was rather selfish, expecting other people to help ease her own loneliness but somehow she couldn't help herself. Of all the people to be invited to these festivities, she couldn't understand why they hadn't invited _him_. "Dedication to duty," Cousin Cora had said. What about dedication to _her_!

"You childish old cow!" she admonished herself and tried to smile at Matthew when she looked up and caught his eye. It was then that she heard his low rumble in her ear.

"May I have this dance, Mrs. Crawley?'

She looked up to see the soft smile of Charles Carson as he held out his hand to her. She gave him a grim smile and finally nodded. He pulled back her chair and led her out onto the dance floor just as the small ensemble struck up a one-step.

'You don't look very happy this evening, Isobel,' he said using her Christian name to ease the tension surrounding her. "Aren't you having a good time?"

"Better now," she smiled brightly up at him as they executed the head turns and toe points of the dance. "Thank you, Charles." He gave her a genuine smile as he led her through several more turns and looked over her shoulder towards the door leading to the hall. "What are you looking for?"

He shook his head as if clearing the cobwebs and answered, "I was just looking for Elsie, I can't imagine what's keeping her." Suddenly a radiant smile broke over his face and he looked down at her.

"Were you and Richard able to have some time at Christmas?" He began to shift her to the edge of the dance floor.

"I went over on Boxing Day in the afternoon for a few hours," she said with a rueful smile. "Not quite the same as spending Christmas together but it was better than nothing."

She then looked a bit stunned as he danced her off the wooden floor and started to thread their way between the tables. He came to a stop next to Elsie who smiled up at him and nodded her head. He took her by the shoulders and turned her towards the door.

"I certainly hope that this is better than nothing…and whatever you do, do not come back downstairs this evening, I'll make your excuses for you." He took a quick look around the room to make sure that no one was watching them and then took advantage of her having turned her head to give him a quizzical look. "Happy Christmas, Isobel." He kissed her on the forehead and pushed her out the door into the hallway and then quickly closed and locked it firmly behind her. She was about to reach out and knock on the door when she heard a voice behind her.

"You look beautiful this evening, my love."

She turned to find Richard Clarkson standing in the darkness. She took a hesitant step toward him.

"How?"

"Charles and Elsie," he replied with a chuckle, closing the gap between them and taking her into his arms. Suddenly, everything Charles had uttered just before he pushed her into the hallway made sense. She reached one hand up behind his head and drew him into a soft sweet kiss.

"Happy Christmas, my darling," whispered Richard as he held her close.

"It soon will be," she said with a confident smile.

She stepped back to take hold of his hand and lead him towards the main staircase and was surprised when he stood firm and pulled her back towards him. He dipped his head to kiss her again and then led towards the servants' staircase.

"Elsie told me that if we use the second door on the left, the staircase at the end of that hall will come out just beyond your bedroom."

She beamed up at him and kissed him lightly on the chin, "What are you waiting for?" He laughed and pulled her close to his side as he led the way through the door. They both failed to notice the two faces watching them through the gap in the door to the ballroom.

"Well done, Father Christmas," said Elsie with a smile. He wrapped one arm around her waist and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Deserving of a reward, Mother Christmas?"

"Perhaps," she replied coyly. Her smile quickly turned to a grimace as the sounds of an off-key Mrs. Patmore trying to accompany Mr. Branson singing 'Ave Maria' reached them. "But not until _after_ we get this drunken lot off to bed."

He laughed and gestured for her to proceed in front of him. "Meet you under the mistletoe downstairs!" He gave her bottom a small swat before they separated, each to round up their own charges.


End file.
